{"id":1018,"date":"2019-02-10T13:33:20","date_gmt":"2019-02-10T18:33:20","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/read.whitefire-publishing.com\/?p=1018"},"modified":"2019-10-29T07:57:07","modified_gmt":"2019-10-29T11:57:07","slug":"the-food-fight-professional","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/the-food-fight-professional\/","title":{"rendered":"The Food Fight Professional"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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The Food Fight Professional<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

by Angela Ruth Strong<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I, Joey Michaels, am the Food Fight Professional.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Basically this means that if food is flying in the school cafeteria, people think I\u2019m responsible.Working at a soup kitchen as punishment shows me how I can use my reputation in a good way\u2014to organize a \u201cfood fight\u201d to fight hunger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Winning the food fight wouldn\u2019t be so hard if I didn\u2019t have the following three problems:
1) The neighbor girl who records all my mistakes and posts them to the internet
2) Her newly adopted brothers from Haiti who don\u2019t think wasting food is a laughing matter
3) A school principal who wants revenge for the pie I smashed in her face<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If I can keep from making too big a mess in the kitchen this time around, I just might be able to have my pie and eat it too.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

\n\t\t\t\t\t

Chapter 1<\/span><\/span><\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t

\u201cAnybody\nwanna guess what this is?\u201d I peeled the top piece of whole-grain bread from my\nsandwich, revealing the mystery mixture inside, and held the slice over the\nmiddle of the cafeteria table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEw \u2026\u201d\nEvery guy groaned in unison.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf you\ncan guess what it is, I\u2019ll let you trade me lunches.\u201d I smiled like a game show\nhost as if the offer was really appealing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow\nabout if we guess what it is, then you<\/em>\nhave to eat it,\u201d Chance countered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Usually\nmy friends worked with me and I could scrounge some kind of meal from them. A\nCheeto here, a fruit snack there. Today, it looked like I might have to starve.\nMy stomach rumbled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It\ndidn\u2019t help that the cafeteria was serving pizza. The spicy scent of pepperoni\nand gooey cheese permeated the air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tristan\nleaned across the table and pointed at a gray lump in my sandwich. \u201cMy guess is\nfried worms, like from that book we read in English class.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Austin\npopped a potato chip in his mouth. \u201cThere\u2019s colorful stuff mixed in, too. Maybe\nit\u2019s all kinds of fish bait.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\nguys.\u201d I rolled my eyes. \u201cMy mom is more likely to serve me fish than fish\nbait. Think healthy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s\ntrue,\u201d said Chance. \u201cHe doesn\u2019t even get real cupcakes on his birthday. His mom\nmakes him carrot bran muffins.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A sore\nsubject, as I\u2019d be turning thirteen this month. What kid wanted to become a\nteenager without ever having had his own birthday cake? I\u2019d rather discuss my\nnasty sandwich. \u201cNo real guesses?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tristan\nwrinkled his nose. \u201cTuna and spinach.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\nwas yesterday. This doesn\u2019t smell nearly as bad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBroccoli\nand blueberries,\u201d Austin said. \u201cThat\u2019s what my mom is always trying to get me\nto eat.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re\ngetting closer.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They\nstared at me in horror, which could work in my favor. If I really grossed them\nout, maybe they would take pity and feed me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My\nstomach couldn\u2019t wait much longer. \u201cIt\u2019s a chicken and fruit salad sandwich.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Austin\npretended to puke while Tristan made gagging noises.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019d\nrather eat fried worms,\u201d said Chance. This was where he should have tossed me a\npotato chip.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll\neat it for a dollar.\u201d Desperation got the best of me. See, if they paid me a\ndollar, then I could go buy a slice of pizza. And I really wanted a slice of pizza.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

 \u201cNobody wants to watch you eat that.\u201d Chance\npointed a finger down his throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Had the\nkid never heard of YouTube? \u201cPeople love watching gross stuff. If you used your\nphone and recorded me eating this, I\u2019d be famous by dinnertime.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Austin\nshook his head. \u201cYou want to be famous for eating gross stuff?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He had\nme there. \u201cUm \u2026 no. I want to be famous for doing cool stuff. Like gymnastics.\nOr parkour. Or climbing to the top of the flagpole out front.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tristan\nsmirked. \u201cI\u2019m sure my mom would love that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sarcasm.\nBecause principals usually weren\u2019t fond of kids climbing flagpoles. But that\ndidn\u2019t have to stop me. \u201cYou guys don\u2019t think I could get famous?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Chance\nchuckled. \u201cRich and famous maybe. Then you could take us all to Disney World\nfor Spring Break.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\nnarrowed my eyes at my buddies\u2019 disbelief. Why would anybody want to live that\nway? \u201cWalt Disney once said, \u2018If you can dream it, you can do it.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Austin\nraised his eyebrows at Chance before looking at me. \u201cWell, then quit dreaming,\nMickey Mouse, and get busy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHa.\u201d I\npushed my sandwich away. \u201cYou won\u2019t even offer me one little potato chip, yet\nI\u2019m supposed to take you all to Disney World?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf you\nget on national television by your birthday, I\u2019ll buy you a whole bag.\u201d Chance tossed me a potato chip.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I reached\nto grab it, but there was a reason I didn\u2019t play team sports\u2014the reason being\nthat while I\u2019m great at throwing, I\u2019m horrible at catching. Plus, I didn\u2019t want\nto squeeze the chip too tightly and crumble my only source of nourishment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It slid\nout of my grasp and fell to the floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Oh well.\nChance would prefer to eat fried worms than my sandwich, and I\u2019d rather eat\ndirty potato chips. Five-second rule.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I dove\ntoward the ground to retrieve the tasty tidbit, and I didn\u2019t even wait to sit\nup straight before stuffing it in my mouth. Mmm \u2026 The saltiness made my tongue\nwater. I licked my lips as I considered Chance\u2019s offer. I had learned my lesson\nabout betting, but this was more of a challenge, right?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A whole\nbag of potato chips all to myself? And he\u2019d given me almost a whole month to\nbecome famous? Piece of birthday cake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A girl\nscreamed as the entire cafeteria seemed to gasp and freeze. The guys at my\ntable chuckled and the sound of slapped high fives came from over my head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019d find\nout what was going on in a moment, but first I had to see if anybody else had dropped\nchips on the floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nope, my\nbuddies had been clean eaters for a change.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

All\nexcept for that bit of chocolate cupcake on Chance\u2019s sneaker, but I couldn\u2019t be\nsure he hadn\u2019t tracked that in from somewhere else, so I let it be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJosiah\nMichaels!\u201d Isabelle\u2019s sparkly high-top sneakers planted themselves on the floor\nright in front of my face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Had she\nbeen the girl who screamed? Unexpected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But\nmaybe she saw what my mom wanted to feed me for lunch. It was certainly the\nstuff horror movies were made of.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Or could\nIsabelle be bringing me the other half of her peanut butter and grape jelly\nsandwich on white bread?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I jerked\nupright, mouth watering. The back of my head connected with the edge of the\ntable and sent brainwaves scrambling in agony for a moment. I rubbed my skull\nand uncrossed my eyes. As much as I would have loved to see Isabelle holding her<\/em> sandwich, the sight of my<\/em> sandwich glued to her face was even\nmore satisfying. I laughed. \u201cWhy are you wearing my lunch?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She\ngrowled as she scraped the bread off her face. A few spots of goopy fruit\nremained plastered to her skin like giant zits.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Awesome.\nNow I had an excuse not to eat my lunch, plus everybody in the room had seen it\nget destroyed. Surely they\u2019d send their extra helpings my way. Let the pretzels\nand Twinkies rain down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\nknow I\u2019m going to get you back,\u201d Isabelle said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I gave\nmy friends the she\u2019s-coo-coo look, which they ignored. \u201cFor what?\u201d It wasn\u2019t my\nfault if she had done something like trip on her shoelace and land face first\nin my meal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She\ngrabbed a napkin from the table and wiped at her cheek. \u201cHa. It is so like you\nto act innocent.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\nblinked. \u201cI am.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cToo\nlate, Joe. You already admitted this is your sandwich.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Oops.\nBut even if I hadn\u2019t admitted it, nobody else\u2019s mom would have made chicken\nfruit salad on wheat that day. Or any other day. \u201cYeah, but\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd you\nwere under the table in hopes that I wouldn\u2019t see you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo. I\nwas under the table looking for potato chips.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She\nthrew her head back and laughed the kind of laugh that made me want to go back\nunder the table to hide from her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I looked\nto my buddies for help.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For the\nfirst time in the history of middle school, they quietly ate their lunches.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Wait a\nsecond. One of them<\/em> must have thrown\nmy sandwich at Isabelle \u2026 but they were letting me take the fall?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Isabelle\nthrew her dirty napkin in the garbage. \u201cYou\u2019re not getting away with this, Joey.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I<\/em> wasn\u2019t, but somebody<\/em> was. I used my eyes like lasers\nto turn up the heat on my so-called friends and make one of them confess.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Chance\ncleared his throat and Austin peeked over at Isabelle, but none of them said a\nword.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Isabelle\u2019s\nvoice turned sickeningly sweet. \u201cHi, Mrs. Lyons.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Oh no.\nNot the principal. If I\u2019d known she was in the cafeteria, I would have offered\nto trade my sandwich for her pizza. She loved Mom\u2019s sandwiches. But it was too\nlate to do so now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tristan\u2019s\neyes grew huge. \u201cI gotta go to the bathroom.\u201d He stuffed all his plastic wrappers\ninto a brown lunch bag and took off running.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSlow\ndown, Tristan,\u201d Mrs. Lyons barked. She was usually a nice lady, but as\nTristan\u2019s mom, she used a different voice on him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He disappeared\naround the corner to the bathroom.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\nsighed. I could have really used his help here. Especially if he was the one\nwho launched my lunch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMrs.\nLyons, Joe threw his sandwich at me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\ngritted my teeth to keep from exploding. \u201cNo, I didn\u2019t, Mrs. Lyons. Isabelle\njust thinks I did.\u201d Why wouldn\u2019t Isabelle believe me?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou are<\/em> known for throwing things at people,\u201d\nMrs. Lyons pointed out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There is\nthat. But \u2026 \u201cOnly when it\u2019s business. Do you want me to apologize again for\nhitting you with a water balloon last summer?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mrs.\nLyons pressed her lips together as if she was trying not to laugh. \u201cJoey, water\nfights are fine. Food fights are not.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Food\nfights? A brilliant idea! There could be money in becoming a food fight\nprofessional. Fifty cents for mashed potatoes, seventy-five cents for\nspaghetti, and a dollar for a pie. Hmm \u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I shook\nmy head. My job right now was to convince the principal I hadn\u2019t thrown a\nsandwich at my neighbor. \u201cI didn\u2019t start any food fight. I promise.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mrs. Lyons\ntilted her head. \u201cI know you didn\u2019t start a food fight.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cReally?\u201d\nWhew<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOnly because\nIsabelle made the mature choice not to throw food back at you. Thank you,\nIsabelle.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The\ngirl, a sometimes business partner but currently nemesis, smiled smugly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What?\nWait. Wasn\u2019t I supposed to be innocent until proven guilty? \u201cI didn\u2019t do it!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mrs.\nLyons\u2019s eyebrows lifted up to her blonde bangs. \u201cThen who did?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I looked\nover to Chance and Austin for help.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Shrugging,\nthey glanced everywhere but at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If only\nI had another couple of disgusting sandwiches for both their faces.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t\ntry to get them in trouble, Joe.\u201d\nIsabelle\nstuck a hand on her hip and tossed her hair as she turned toward the principal.\n\u201cJoe was hiding under the table when I came over to confront him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mouth\ndropped open and my arms flew wide. What else could I say? If I told Mrs. Lyons\nthat I\u2019d been eating potato chips off the floor, she\u2019d tell Mom and I\u2019d get in\neven bigger trouble.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mrs.\nLyons touched one finger to her nose. It seemed she did that whenever trying to\nreason with me. As if I was so unreasonable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just\nbecause I\u2019d made money in the past by throwing a snowball or two (ahem) hundred\n\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou can\neither apologize to Isabelle or serve detention during lunch tomorrow, Joey.\nWhat\u2019s it going to be?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Isabelle\ncrossed her arms.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Peanut\nbutter pie. If I was going to serve the time, I might as well enjoy the crime.\nI glanced down at the smashed sandwich on the table and my fingers itched.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The\nshrill ring of the lunch bell pierced the air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Isabelle\nturned on her heel and strode away, having no idea how close she\u2019d come to\ngetting even more chicken and fruit crammed up her nostrils.\n\n\u201cDetention\nit is.\u201d Mrs. Lyons pulled out a pad of paper from her pocket to write me up. Not\nthe kind of fame I was after. I needed my name in lights, not on Mrs. Lyons\u2019s\nnotepad. \u201cSee you tomorrow at noon in room two sixteen. And, Joey, the next\ntime your mom makes you one of these sandwiches, just trade me for my pizza and\nsave us all the mess.\u201d\n\n\n\n<\/p>\n\n\n